Show Me All the Bounty of Your Giving
Show me all the bounty of your giving:
Each cornucopia spills out in vain
As some of the sweet happiness of living
Sinks deep into a dry and dusty plain.
Of labor and of love there is no ending,
Nor can we ever pocket our reward.
Some tender that we're tempted into spending
Goes for gifts that others can't afford.
Remember that the Earth's a single sea,
Equable in what one takes and gives.
Each act redeems its value naturally,
Taking grace from everything that lives.
In giving there is rich and varied treasure,
Nor more nor less than taking's vivid pleasure,
Granting ample joy to those who care,
Subject to what pain they choose to share.
Sing of the Holidays That End the Year
Sing of the holidays that end the year!
Each cause for celebration and reflection.
As darkness rules the earth, sing of good cheer,
Sustained by will and nourished by affection.
Of Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Year's Eve,
Now sing that you might magnify the light!
Sing, for in your joy you will believe,
Granted grace throughout the bitter night.
Rekindle for these reckonings the fire
Each carries as a favor to the heart,
Eloquent of rapture and desire,
Twin grounds of both sincerity and art.
In quest of fellowship and common feeling,
Needing company, nor care concealing,
Giving and receiving equal measure,
Sing, then, of passion, faith, and simple pleasure!
So Do We Mark the Turning of the Light
So do we mark the turning of the light,
Each turning imperceptibly within,
As dawn comes to the coldest depths of night,
Sweet silver hint that day will soon begin.
Our darkest hours are those of greatest cheer,
Nor need we faith to feel the moment's grace,
Still holy, though the mechanism's clear,
Gift of time transcending time and place.
Reason sees no reason for rebirth:
Each moment is an equal place to start.
Even so, we recognize its worth:
The ritual redemption of the heart.
In us there yet remains the ancient awe,
Now overlaid with litany and law,
Grateful to the gods for seasons sure,
Sustained by love unseen and worship pure.
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Suppose There Were No Special Times for Greetings
Suppose there were no special times for greetings,
Each day equally a holy day.
All things are holy just because of being
Shards of Being, lightning wrapped in clay.
One might then be merry all the time,
Needing no occasion for good cheer,
Seeing in each moment the sublime,
God born in every child throughout the year.
Reasoning thus, one need not leave bereft
Each everyday not specialized for joy.
Eden is a place we never left,
Though smoke and smog our view of it destroy.
In paradise all time is time for glory,
Nor do the angels choose one sacred story.
God is in all things with grace to be,
Shining in all seasons equally.
The Wind Brings Down Its Icy Load
The wind brings down its icy load;
Curtains close across the sky.
Travelers shudder on the road:
There will be shelter by-and-by.
All one has seen and one has sown
Now feeds the feasts of fantasy.
Merriment goes on within;
Trees and candles dance with light.
Without, the world is grey and grim;
Within the house, all is bright.
How might one stand against the wind
But with the joy one brings to it?
The window hints of happiness;
The wanderer walks quickly past.
The week-old ice is treacherous;
The snow is falling thick and fast.
Shelter cannot be a place
For those whose spirits will not rest.
Bells ring through the chilly air;
People purchase gifts on time.
Windows, doorways, front yards bear
Of inner truth the outward sign:
Love beneath commercial cheer;
Loneliness decked out in din.
The season freezes all but love;
Winter grips the waterways.
Upon white meadows nothing moves;
Life sleeps through the nights and days.
O love! At once both flame and fuel,
Light well what meets the inner gaze! |
